A/N: In which Sil begins to prepare her back-up plan against her upcoming nuptials, and her and Finnick run a seemingly normal errand.
firebird5: I could definitely see that! I love writing scenes between them :) Glad you like the story!
GBblahblahblah: Thank you! I'm really proud of how this story has developed. I've written plenty of other stories in the past, but none of them have ever reached the level that this one has. I'm so pleased that you are all enjoying it!
RedPlanetGalaxy: We're barely halfway done yet! Lol. Don't worry, there will be plenty of content for you binge in the future :) Even when I was supposed to finish the story, I ended up writing more of it because I just love it too much to stop.
remifoster1313: Yes, he will be more forgiving, but I'm also not going to make it easy either ;) I'm thinking about changing up some of the things that I've already written regarding the reveal to make it more interesting, so we'll see what happens. And yes...brutal scenes. Well, I'm not sure if I'll end up including the main one yet, because it's really dark, but knowing me I probably will lol
Jessismore51: I had a lot of fun figuring how which quotes to add to which chapter! Glad you like that aspect of the story. And also that you were inspired to read The Scarlet Pimpernel! My work here is done. :) It's such a classic book, and of course the plot is great. I'm happy you're enjoying the story so far!
This particular chapter will set in motion the plot regarding Sil and Finnick's upcoming marriage ceremony. The next chapter will delve into that more fully, unless of course I change things around again and add new content! You never know...
Hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Thirty Six | And to everyone at once
"Thus society accepted him, made much of him, since his horses were the finest in the country, his fétes and wines the most sought after. Moreover, Sir Percy got no pity, because he seemed to require none – he seemed very proud of his clever wife, and to care little that she took no pains to disguise the good-natured contempt which she evidently felt for him, and that she even amused herself by sharpening her ready wits at his expense." Emma Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel
If there's one good thing about the Capitol, it has to be the fact that the law is taken very seriously. Well – that's not always a good thing in her case, but this time around, Sil is very happy.
The attorney that she is affiliated with goes by the name of Tobias Barnaby. She's only seen him a handful of times over the last few years, but each meeting is handled with care and discretion. President Snow has made sure that all his Victors are set up with the very best, just in case something goes haywire in their already caustic lives. It is about the only insurance that their dear President takes out for them.
Dorsey had looked into Tobias Barnaby when he was first assigned to Sil as her lawyer, right after her Victory Tour seven years prior. Barnaby also handles several other Victors and, according to Dorsey, rarely ever goes out of his way to attain any of the celebrity status that most of his colleagues obsess over. He seems to be perfectly fine with living a quiet life. Despite handling several cases involved with Victors over the course of his career, Barnaby rarely ever makes the headlines, either. Dorsey seems to think he is trustworthy enough, at least when it comes to President Snow. Sil is banking on the hope that Tobias Barnaby won't turn on her and inform Snow as to the reason she is at his office.
It's too late to turn back anyway. She's already made the appointment to see him this afternoon, and the preparation for doing so had taken her the better part of last night and this morning. She had to make sure that Finnick would be away while she is out, come up with a viable excuse should she run into him, and get to Barnaby's office in complete discretion. By the time she actually makes it to the office, Sil is rather exhausted from it all.
Her exhaustion is also, in part, due to the fact that Dorsey hasn't heard back from District 13 since sending over Peeta's medical files. He's only gotten a very brief message to let him know that said files were received, but no further orders were given involving the hopefully imminent rescue of the captive Victors. Sil has been hounding Dorsey for the last few days now about it, but he always gets back to her with the same reply: so far, District 13 has been silent regarding their plans. Perhaps it is just as well, for now, because Sil has several of her own plans to implement in the meantime.
She walks casually into the firm, huge sunglasses sitting demurely atop her nose. They make her small face look even smaller, especially with the wide-brimmed hat shielding her. It is her armor, she thinks with amusement, and brushes out the wrinkles in her long black and white stripped dress as she looks around. The secretary looks up at her when she walks to the desk.
"Miss Cornelius – oh, I'm terribly sorry. Mrs. Odair," the woman hastily corrects as she stands up from her desk. "Mr. Barnaby is waiting for you in his office."
Sil smiles widely and simpers, "Gracious, I hope I'm not late. Thank you, my love. I'll let myself in, shall I?" Without waiting for an answer, Sil makes her way down the hall.
Mr. Barnaby's office is located at the end of it. An expensive looking sign is bolted to the door with his name written in golden lettering. Sil takes one glance at it and raises an eyebrow, her mind flashing back to the endless lessons her father would give her on each precious stone and metal in his jewelry making. The lettering looks to be fake gold. Probably a metallic type of paint with the barest shards of the true metal, meant to give his office the appearance of status and wealth without spending the money to do it. Very smart of Tobias Barnaby, she decides as she reaches for the doorknob.
Inside, it is even more luxurious. He'd definitely given the place a significant remodeling since the last time she's been here. The room is glamorous in a subtle way, as if it draws from the energy of wealth without blinding people with it. There are a few leather chairs and end tables pressed up beside a Pre-War electric fireplace, and the golden gilded theme seems to have spread from the door plaque to the desk itself.
Another placard with Barnaby's name sits atop the impressive piece of furniture. Behind it sits Barnaby himself, who upon seeing her stands up and greets, "Mrs. Odair, how nice to see you again. It's been quite a long time, hasn't it?"
Mr. Tobias Barnaby seems to have gotten a remodeling of his own. His dark brown hair is now speckled with shards of silver, and his pointed chin is bearing a trimmed beard that looks well on him. He seems to be taking to his age very easily.
Sil plants a too-wide smile on her face and teeters over in her stilettos, looking precarious as always. Finnick would say she looks downright dangerous. Finnick. The whole reason she is here to begin with.
She politely extends her hand to shake Barnaby's, and then sits down in the chair on the other side of his desk. With a purr, she tells him, "The way you styled the space is very impressive, Tobias. I do adore the gold lettering – even though it's fake."
Barnaby looks shocked. "No one else has ever noticed before. Even the painters couldn't tell the difference."
Sil laughs aloud and through her laughter says, "Oh gracious. Gemma Cornelius is my father, after all. I know my way around precious metals."
Barnaby smiles and says in what looks like complete seriousness, "You are a rare gem yourself, Mrs. Odair. The whole of Panem underestimates you."
The words strike a little too close to home, but Sil doesn't feel threatened. She knows the risk of coming here today. Snow has the majority of Capitolites in his pocket, their loyalties undiminished and even strengthened by the rebellion. Yet she has a feeling that Tobias Barnaby is trustworthy and won't go tattling on her once this is all finished. Call it a stroke of intuition – whatever it is, she has decided to throw her lot in with him.
"Call me Silver, Tobias. I believe we're on a first name basis by now," she says demurely. "The reason I'm here today is perhaps rather…well. Delicate."
She thinks it's a good word to describe her current circumstances. Barnaby tilts his head and nods as if this isn't altogether surprising, probably because he deals with delicate situations on a daily basis.
"Go on," he urges, sitting back in his chair. He reaches up to touch his beard as he watches her through surprisingly kind eyes, for a Capitolite.
"I'd like some papers. Divorce papers, to be exact." The words tumble from her lips in an almost halting manner, but the moment they're out, she feels so relieved. It's taken her quite a bit of courage to come here and set this up. If the news was to spread around the Capitol that she plans to divorce her fake husband of only eight weeks…well, she'd rather not think about what would happen.
Tobias, naturally, looks surprised, but he handles it very maturely when he says, "I can draw them up for you, of course. Would it be out of line if I asked the reason?"
Sil pauses and chuckles with a shrug, as if the question is not nearly as difficult as it really is. She's not entirely sure whether she trusts Barnaby quite that much.
Even so, she replies, "As I said, it's a delicate matter. Purely a back up plan, I can assure you. I don't intend on using the papers any time soon, but I'd like to have them in case something happens with this terrible rebellion. I understand it's easier to go through the original lawyer than any subsequent ones."
It's the truth, just not the whole truth. She doesn't want to give the impression that she knows when the rebellion will strike or what will happen. Barnaby might not give official reports of his cases to Snow, but everyone in the Capitol is subject to a level of distrust.
Tobias nods graciously at her response and leans forward. "I can't say I'm terribly shocked at your request, Silver. Your new husband has certainly gotten into his fair share of trouble with the female population of this city. If you'd like me to draft these documents, then I will. I can have them mailed to you by tomorrow evening, the earliest."
She smiles and lets him believe that it's Finnick she's concerned about, not the fact that they are getting married – officially married – against their own will.
"That would be wonderful, Tobias, but I think it would be better if I come to pick them up personally. I don't want my husband seeing them and thinking any less of me. Like I said, it's merely a back up plan."
It's not such an odd request in this bustling, wayward city, where spouses are exchanged as easily as one might alter the clothes in their closet. Nothing worthwhile ever seems to last around here.
He nods agreeably and says, "In that case, I shall have them prepared by late afternoon. Why don't you have my secretary write you in for a follow-up appointment, and we can go over the documents while you're here."
Sil nods and stands up. "I'll do that, thank you Tobias. I truly appreciate your discretion in this matter."
Tobias stands up as well and shakes her hand again. "Certainly. I'll see you tomorrow, Silver."
She gives a trilling, "Till tomorrow," and makes her way out of the office. The secretary stands up again when she sees her, smiling politely with her hands clasped in front of her.
"Will you be making another appointment, Mrs. Odair?" she asks as Sil stops in front of the desk.
Sil smiles widely and nods, and they schedule in another slot for the next day before Sil heads back outside into the Capitol streets, head low so as not to attract unwanted attention. She blends right in with the other Capitol women, and no one is the wiser that their Victor walks among them. She heads down the populated street to the corner, where it is easier to catch a cab, and hopes that Finnick is still out by the time she gets home.
Luckily, Sil has plenty of reasons to leave her apartment now that the wedding is set. Finnick is still gone and she's grateful, despite having a wedding gown fitting excuse on the tip of her tongue the moment she opens her door. She slips off her heels and pulls out her PAAD, checking to see if she's got any new messages from Dorsey.
The screen is blank, though. Her accomplice must still be trying to plan things with District 13. She hopes they'll figure everything out soon, because she's going crazy with worry that something bad will happen during the rescue attempt. So many things are at stake.
She sighs and walks to the refrigerator. The shelves are dismally bare – she's still not completely used to buying food for two. Finnick has quite an appetite and his preference for homemade dinners means that she needs to buy more ingredients than she normally does.
She can't complain though – she doubts she's ever eaten as well as she has the last few weeks. The Capitol has delicious food, but it's so rich and creamy that Sil finds she can't eat it all of the time anyway. She might be from the luxury district, but even well-to-do families in District 1 don't usually eat such fine foods every day.
Finnick prefers to make recipes from his own district – meals that are simple yet delicious. He is a good cook, far better than her, and often whisks something up for them even without proper ingredients. Sometimes he even cooperates with her silly little dieting schedule – though lately he's been attempting to make her eat more red meat because she's 'too skinny'.
She flickers through the cabinets and jots down a grocery list, adding to it as she searches around the kitchen. When she's done, she sets it down on the counter and settles into one of the stools. She props her PAAD up in front of her, goes onto her grocery shopping app, and starts adding the food items to her basket. She hasn't actually been to the grocery store in…what, four years? The last time she went in, she was mobbed by an enormous group of adoring fans and had to leave before she even finished shopping.
Deplorable, really.
In any case, Finnick finds her sitting there when he walks in about fifteen minutes later. He greets her with a quick smile and asks, "What are you doing?" He peers over her shoulder curiously and raises an eyebrow. "Ordering groceries online? That explains why I never see you walking around with heavy bags." He squeezes her arm playfully as if he's making fun of her muscles.
She sniffs and gives him a snooty look over her shoulder. "Finnick darling, just be happy I'm doing this for you. I've never spent so much money on food before you walked into my life."
He winces playfully and wonders, "You calling me fat, sugar?"
She rolls her eyes and nudges him with her elbow, but he's too busy studying the items she's adding to her shopping cart to really mind.
"You know what, we should just go shopping ourselves. Get your coat on," he tells her after a moment. Sil turns to gape at him. He winks.
"What?" he asks with a laugh, "Never gone to the grocery store with the hottest man in the country before? I know it's a lot to take in. Let your excitement out."
Sil huffs and stands up, crossing her arms over her chest with a glower. "We can't just go to the grocery store. We'll be recognized."
Finnick just shrugs as if this doesn't bother him at all. "So what? It won't be that busy this time of day and there's nothing in the fridge for dinner. Besides, we can make kissy faces to each other over the produce and people will go wild – they'll love it."
Sil thinks he might have gone crazy. She dawdles there on the tiled floor, staring up at him as if he's got three heads. Then she mutters with some degree of disgust, "…Kissy faces?"
Finnick bursts into laughter and pats her head, then nods solemnly and repeats, "People will love it."
It seems that nothing she can say will change his mind though. As Finnick pulls his coat back on and then turns to help her with hers, Sil asks, "Did you hit your head on the way up here? Or spent too many days out in that deplorable little boat you seem to think is so romantic? The sun must have damaged your brain cells – "
"Hey, that boat is not deplorable," he cuts in with a sniff, and pushes her to the door. "Besides, it would've been plenty romantic if you hadn't believed every word I said." He snorts and mutters, "Krackens…ha…" beneath his breath.
Sil glowers at him and slaps his hand off her shoulder. "I heard that!"
He winks down at her and murmurs, "I intended for you to hear it, sugar. Now come on, I guarantee this trip will be more romantic than the rowboat incident."
Sil rolls her eyes and grumbles, "Oh, is that what we're calling it now?"
Finnick shoves her playfully into the elevator. Their banter continues its current path by the time they get onto the streets outside. The city has dozens of grocery stores. There's one in this neighborhood that's only a block away. It's not a long distance, but Sil uses the time to hand Finnick some sunglasses and ruffle his hair up out of its customary style. He sighs but doesn't complain, even when Sil pops his collar and gives him a thorough look over.
He raises an eyebrow and dryly asks, "Do I pass the test?"
The look she sends him makes it rather clear that he has not passed any test whatsoever, and he sighs again. "Don't worry so much. Look, there's hardly anyone out on the streets. We'll be fine."
There is in fact quite a few people walking around, just not as many as normal. In any case, it doesn't set aside Sil's worries. She's glad when the crossing light turns green and they can make their way across the street though. Staying in one place too long makes her uneasy. Despite her alter ego's reputation, the real Sil doesn't exactly enjoy walking around the Capitol and getting ogled at by the strange creatures that walk past them.
The grocery store is quieter than she expects. Whether that's because of the time of day or just an abnormality, Sil doesn't know. It's been ages since she's stepped foot inside a place like this, so she has little to compare it to. Finnick takes a cart and together, they meander down the meat department. They stop now and again to add something to their pile of groceries. It doesn't take very long to build up an impressive mountain of food items, all of which Sil crosses off her list with an organized solemnity that makes Finnick smile into his collar.
When she reaches for a box of daffodil tea, Finnick's smile falls into a mocking grimace that she immediately notices. With a raised eyebrow, he cringes, "Daffodil tea? That sounds horrendous. Get the Chai instead."
She rolls her eyes at him and dryly says, "I'll have you know that this happens to do wonders for weight loss, darling." She waves it in his face as if proving a point.
Finnick pretends to vomit. "Tea in general is good for weight loss, Sil. Are you trying to poison me?"
"You don't have to drink it," she retorts, and puts it in the cart. He recoils from it dramatically and the hint of a smile brightens her face at his teasing.
"Mmm…I'm getting the Chai too," he just mutters after a moment of eyeing the Daffodil tea with a disgusted expression. As he puts that in, he adds, "Besides, you don't even need to lose weight. You're like a tiny little weed."
Sil's immediate reaction is a mock outraged, "Excuse me! Surely there's a more gracious turn of phrase, my love." She simpers to herself and takes charge of the cart, pushing it down the aisle toward the dairy.
She doesn't expect Finnick's hands to suddenly envelope her own, adding his strength to hers as he walks directly behind her. In her ear, he murmurs, "I was being melodramatically romantic. Should I just serenade you in front of the cheese instead?"
She can't help it – she bursts into laughter at his suggestion and playfully says, "That would be a sight I'd not soon forget."
He laughs as well and tangled his fingers with hers atop the carriage's frame. The move feels as natural as her laughter – breathable, easy – and she hardly even registers it until they pass by a group of staring shoppers in frankly scary feather scarves. Then she remembers their strange position and tries to wrangle herself out of it.
Finnick, of course, doesn't make it easy for her. He tightens his hold and grins, pushing the cart faster to prevent her from scurrying out of her squished place between his body and the metal frame.
"Finnick," she grumbles beneath her breath, rolling her eyes. He just grins wider and murmurs, "You don't see it, but I'm making kissy faces at you right now."
She laughs again in spite of herself and then – annoyed that he can make her laugh so easily – kicks him in the shin in retribution. She doesn't really put any force into it but of course Finnick makes it into a big deal when he groans and keels over, reaching down to grab his leg and staring at her with big, betrayed eyes.
"Gracious," Sil mutters, shaking her head at him. The group of adoring Capitolites are still watching them from several aisles down, whispering amongst themselves in excitement. She sighs and decides to take advantage of it when she crouches down in front of Finnick and rests her chin on her hands.
"You're something else, you know that?" she asks, with no small amount of incredulity. Finnick's eyes turn mischievous as he smirks over at her.
"Well aware," he quips, and inches closer. "Are you planning on kissing me all better? It is your fault after all."
She makes a face at him and goes to pull away, but he grabs her arms before she can and shuffles closer. With a surreptitious glance at the other shoppers, Sil whispers, "Finnick, this is hardly the time – mm!"
He cuts her off with a kiss that's a little sudden, a little out of the blue. She'd probably be knocked to the floor if his hands weren't clutched around her upper arms, holding her in place. And even though the kiss is really more of a peck than anything else, Sil feels at once weightless and wonderful despite her own guardedness. She releases a sharp inhalation of breath and then leans into him with an eagerness that rather takes her aback – as well as Finnick, it seems, because he pauses for a second before sighing out and coming in for more.
The peck quickly turns into something much deeper. The moment Sil begins to move her lips to match his, Finnick slides his hand around the back of her head and leans in. His body tilts towards her, face sliding to the side as his mouth shifts over hers. The movement makes the kiss feel more natural, less tense and caustic. Sil begins to forget.
She forgets where they are, why they're there, who they're near. She forgets her impending marriage to the man in front of her, and the divorce papers being drawn up even now. She even forgets, for a brief moment, her own part to play in the rebellion that has been looming over her for years now.
That's when Sil rattles out a shaky gasp and pulls away, rocking back onto her heels. Her eyes slide over Finnick for a moment, taking note of his bruised lips, red from their kiss. His eyes are bright and he appears boyish, somehow, as if the eagerness she thought she felt in his previous actions has emblazoned over into the present moment.
He goes to move in again, but Sil hisses, "Finnick, we should get home."
A quick glance at the three women tells her that several more people have accumulated to watch them. When Finnick glances over his shoulder at them, the women squeal and start whispering excitedly. Sil thinks she even hears one of them dramatically sigh, "He looked right into my eyes!"
With her lips pursed, Sil stands up and, hesitating only a moment, offers her hand down to Finnick. She doesn't want to make a scene by walking out on him. This little escapade of theirs will no doubt get around the Capitol, and she wants to ensure that their 'happy marriage' stays intact.
Finnick reaches up for her hands, tangling his fingers around hers. She helps him up, though he hardly needs the assistance. The moment he's back on his feet, Finnick crowds into her personal space, grasping her hands solidly as he brings one of them to his lips.
It's her left hand, Sil realizes belatedly when he goes to press a lingering kiss on the ring sitting upon her forth finger. A symbol of their engagement, and for the 'secret wedding' they told everyone they had just before the Quarter Quell. Both of which are lies. Though one of them will be true soon enough, when they have their official wedding ceremony for the Capitol's benefit. They won't be able to maneuver around the law. Once they say 'I do', they will well and truly be married.
She holds her breath as he kisses the ring, then her fingers. When he draws back, there's an unreadable expression in his eyes, but his mouth swings up into a smirk that's clearly for their audience. He drags an arm up over her shoulders and maneuvers their carriage down the aisle once more. Sil grasps onto the cart to help lead it forward, clenching down around the metal with more force than necessary. She's not sure what to think. She only knows that her heart is beating like a hummingbird and with Finnick so close at her side, every thought turns to dust to be blown away by the wind.
"You're blushing," Finnick murmurs lowly, feeling himself grin without permission.
There are so many reasons why he shouldn't be pleased by such a sight. Sil is a tornado in his life. She has caused more of a ruckus than anything else, and the things she's done, the people she has naively brought to the justice of the Capitol, should disgust him. It does – and yet there is something fluttering in his chest at the sight of her pink cheeks and dancing eyes. Something that, at this moment, he cannot bring himself to ignore.
He watches her swallow, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. The tense way she holds herself speaks volumes about her own discomfort, but Finnick doesn't believe it's because of his affection. He might have, if it isn't for the pretty way she's blushing. But the vision she makes right now makes him think that her blush is because she is nervous. Love is a tumultuous thing, and the thought of her loving him makes the disgust he feels he should have towards her dissipate like so many unspoken words.
Is this the blindness that people speak of? That, when you fall in love, you become sightless but for the object of your heart? That all other things fall away, even things that should be important, that should make you turn around and take a step back? If it is, then Finnick has never felt it so solidly before now.
"I'm not," Sil whispers at him, her voice almost a hiss of sound that barely reaches his ears. Her lips turn down into a glower, but the redness in her cheeks only seems to darken.
Finnick bites back a smile and breathes, "You are."
She grumbles, "Gracious," and sticks her nose up into the air. He chuckles.
Every part of her, from her dramatic mannerisms to the silly way she treats those around her, should by all accounts make him run in the opposite direction. And yet…
For some reason he just cannot fathom, Finnick feels himself falling harder and harder for her every single hour.